


Divergent

by klangst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Divergent Fusion, BAMF Keith (Voltron), Confused Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), It is because he is tris, Jealous Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Four/Tobias, Keith (voltron) has daddy issues, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance starts out a little OOC, M/M, One-Sided Allura/Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, i mean real slow burn i like that shit, i'll add more as i go hehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-27 02:51:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18730240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klangst/pseuds/klangst
Summary: In a futuristic Chicago, society is divided into 5 factions. Abnegation the selfless, Dauntless the brave, Erudite the intelligent, Candor the honest, and Amity the peaceful. When all teenagers reach the age of 16, they must choose to either stay in their faction of birth or transfer into another faction.Lance McClain must make the decision to stay with his family in a faction he feels he isn't right for, or to transfer into another faction, and leave his family behind. What follows is a highly competitive initiation, where he must make some tough decisions, but Lance must also keep a secret that he was warned could mean death, while he juggles friends, initiation, and a newfound love interest from an unlikely place. But there is a secret lying beneath everything that threatens to tear the city apart.Or, in a world where I have become tired of searching for tropes and fusions that no one will ever do, I decided to just write my own.(Literally Veronica Roth's Divergent but with Lance & Keith, not much original plot as of right now)





	1. Perfect Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Aight, so this is definitly a mix of real divergent and me, but im excited to post even though im kind of feeling no one will read this.
> 
> I changed minor things about the universe, one being that theres different languages bc i dont think there is in the books but i wanted to make his family a little canon-typical. I made my friend type the spanish to me so im hoping shes right w it, im sorry if it's not.
> 
> Also, I refuse to give Lance the name Lancelot as a full version because it is much too dated and unfabulous for him. As a result, I present you Lawrence: a solution that is barely less dated and still unfabulous. Das all.
> 
> ( also if anyone knows which band the titles are from ily )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight, so this is definitly a mix of real divergent and me, but im excited to post even though im kind of feeling no one will read this.
> 
> I changed minor things about the universe, one being that theres different languages bc i dont think there is in the books but i wanted to make his family a little canon-typical. I made my friend type the spanish for me, so im hoping it is correct. Also, I refuse to give Lance the name Lancelot as a full version because it is much too dated and unfabulous for him. As a result, I present you Lawrence: a solution that is barely less dated and still unfabulous. Das all. ( also if anyone knows which band the titles are from ily )

The bus ride to the Choosing Ceremony is silent and filled with clones clad in gray shirts and slacks. I tilt my head slightly up to see the top of the Hub which even then disappears into the clouds. It is the tallest building in the whole city to where I can see it’s lights gleaming from my bedroom window.

I spare a glance towards my parents and Veronica to see them obediently scanning the bus, as though waiting for someone to need their help in some way. Yearning for a chance to give. I wonder if I could ever truly live that way, but I really don’t think I could.

I follow my parents off the bus and study Veronica’s face. She seems so calm, but I guess I would too if I knew what the hell I was going to do in an hour. Instead, I feel that my heart will most likely burst out of my chest any minute now. I watch her gracefully stepped down the stairs as I stubble on my own way down.

An eruption of ‘are you okays’ from all the Abnegation follow and I inwardly cringe at the look I receive from my family. Abnegation isn’t supposed to draw attention to themselves. I couldn’t live this way, I couldn’t.

We take the stairs twenty floors up to the Choosing Ceremony because my father gave up our spot on the elevator to a group of obnoxiously grateful Amity. He holds the door open after finally making our way there, and I try to wait for him, but the dense crowd of gray pressed me further into the room where I will decide the rest of my goddamn life.

I restrain from jumping at the sight of the sixteen-year-olds from all the factions standing in a line along the edge of the room. Technically we are not referred to as members yet; today our choice will make us initiates and if we complete initiation we will become members in our decided faction.

I figure out we are supposed to be lined up in alphabetical order, so I place myself in between Veronica and Danielle McAdams, who I can only assume to be an Amity with her bright yellow dress.

Every year the responsibility to conduct the ceremony rotates from faction to faction each year and this year is Abnegations. Marcus will give the opening address and read the names in reverse alphabetical order meaning Veronica will choose before me.

In the center, there are five large metal bowls that represented each faction. Each contained a correlating substance: gray stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, Earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless, and glass for Candor.

When your name is called you have to walk to the middle of the circle, take the knife he oh-so-graciously offers, and cut into my hand. Then you have to drop the blood into the faction of your choosing resulting in how you will spend the rest of your life. It’s no big deal.

Before my parents take their seats, they stand in front of V and I. My father kisses her forehead and then claps me on the back. He mutters, “No se preocupe y hasta pronto,” without a trace of doubt. There's a hitch in my breath.

Whatever resolve I was trying to keep breaks as my mother gives us both a final hug. I clench my jaw and stare up at the ceiling as she holds me for what feels like forever. Once she pulls away, she turns her head and whispers in my ear, “Lawrence, te quiero a pesar de todo.”

I restrain a smile, watching her back as she walks away. She must know what I might do today. 

Veronica grabs hold of my hand squeezes so tightly that it hurts. The last time I can remember us holding hands was at our uncle’s funeral when our father cried. We have always been pretty close though, and I feel like I could trust her with the world.

I realize as the room slowly comes to order that I probably should’ve been watching the Dauntless borns of try and gage their actions, but instead I can only stare at a light hanging across the room.

Marcus’ raspy tone breaks my gaze as he calls the beginning of the Choosing Ceremony. Going on about the diplomacy of our ancestors and blah blah blah blah blah.

“Our children are now sixteen, and they stand here on the precipice of adulthood. It is now their decision which way they will go and the kind of person they will be.” Marcus’ voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word spoken. “Decades ago our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a war-ridden world. Rather, they determined that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind’s inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.”

My eyes dart in between the two shining bowls. I don’t know what I believe. What do I believe? I don’t know. 

“Those who blamed aggression formed Amity.” The people clad in bright yellow’s and red’s smiled warmly and proudly around. 

“Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite.” Ruling out Erudite was the only part of my choice that was easy. 

“Those who blamed duplicity created Candor.” I have never liked Candor, some times the truth should be concealed. 

“Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation.” I blame selfishness… I do. I swear I do.

“And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.” But I am not selfless enough. Sixteen years of trying and I am not enough. I take too long of glances of myself in the mirror and yearn to see more. “Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers; Dauntless provides us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our actions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life.”

Marcus continues, “Therefore this day marks a happy occasion—the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world.”  
Then Marcus begins to read the first names. Erin Arnett. She is first up.

Copious amounts of equally nervous sixteen-year-old’s step up out of line and into the middle of the room. The first girl stays with Amity and I watch intently as her blood drops on the soil. Could things be so easy?

“James Felice,” Marcus says.

James Felice, from Dauntless, is the first to stumble on his way to the bowls, but knowing myself, probably not the last. He catches himself before hitting the floor but regains himself as Marcus' hands him the knife. He glances between Candor and Dauntless. 

James Felice becomes the first faction transfer out of us. He will forever be seen as a traitor from now on.

“Veronica McClain,” says Marcus.

Veronica gives one last squeeze to my hand and walks off. She casts a sorrowful glance over her shoulder, causing her wire glasses to slide a bit down the bridge of her nose. She effortlessly takes the knife and cuts her palm, though I stare in confusion and she hesitates to let it sit there.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and walks confidently towards the Erudite bowl and lets the water turn a darker shade of crimson.

My mind begins to fog alongside the hushed murmurs that evolve into outraged cries. Veronica, my selfless perfect sister, was a faction transfer? But when I close my eyes, I see the stack of books on her desk, and her shaking frail hands sliding along her legs after the aptitude test. Why didn’t I realize that when she told me to think of myself yesterday, she was also giving that advice to herself? 

I scan the crowd of the Erudite—they wear smug smiles and nudge each other. The Abnegation, normally so placid, speak to one another in tense whispers and glare across the room at the faction that has become our enemy. 

“Excuse me,” says Marcus, but the crowd doesn’t hear him. He shouts, “Quiet, please!” The room goes silent. Except for a ringing sound, which honestly was probably just a problem coming from me.

I hear my name and a shudder propels me forward. Halfway to the bowls, I am sure that I will choose Abnegation. I can see it now. I watch myself grow into a man in Abnegation robes, marrying my neighbor Susan’s sister, Roberta, volunteering on the weekends, the peace of routine, the quiet nights spent in front of the fireplace, the certainty that I will be safe, and if not good enough, better than I am now.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure the ringing is coming from my ears.

I look to Veronica, who now stands behind the intense stares of the Erudite. Do they know my results to be Erudite? Were they that smart? I think they must be, as I look at her she gives me a small nod, knowing what I’m thinking. She agrees.

If Veronica wasn’t fit for Abnegation, I could never be. But she left me with no choice, I can’t leave my ma and pa alone. There is no other option. I couldn’t do that, our community would already look down upon them for raising my sister. I set my jaw. I will be the child that stays; I have to do this for my parents. I have to.

Marcus offers me the knife, and I look into his eyes. They are a deep almost purple color, a strange one to see, it almost reminds me of deep amethyst. I take the knife and I turn towards the looming bowls placed around me. 

Almost in a trance, I drag the blade along my palm. I don’t even feel the sting as I make my war towards the two bowls placed next to each other and close my eyes.

I open my eyes and thrust my arm out, there were droplets of blood at the carpet by my feet, over Abnegation. Then will an audible gasp I can’t contain I jerk my hand the other way.

At the sound of my blood sizzling on the coals, I realize two things: I am selfish, but I am also brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope someone likes this and i really dig comments, ya feel?
> 
> anyways, keith will be in next chapter most likely, if not chapter three.
> 
> Im thinking pretty quick updates so for the next chapter probably late tomorrow or thursday hehe.


	2. No One Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so here is chapter two, which does in fact include our fav boy.
> 
> I do have a question i really need you guys' feedback on though: do you want Keith to appear originally just as keith, or for him to be named 'Four' until Lance finds out his real name is keith like in the books?
> 
> Pretty please leave me a comment because im relying on your feelings about it.
> 
> anywaysss, hope you enjoy!

I stare blankly down at the floor behind the Dauntless-born initiates. I’m surprisingly taller than most, but their bulk is nothing in comparison to my scrawny stature. 

Once the last initiate makes their choice, a curly-haired boy from candor who stays, the masses of groups begin to move towards the exit. 

But I have to see my parents one last time because I can’t do that to them, I’m already a traitor. I look over my shoulder quickly trying to locate them and frown at what I find. My father’s eyes are burning into mine with red edges, I almost feel my own eyes tinge with the beginnings of tears before seeing my mom. She is smiling beautifully and almost encouragingly. Of course, she had known.

I quickly look to my other side to check on Veronica. I’m not sure what I expect- maybe her standing there, just as uncomfortable and hesitant as me- but her shaking hands and having a polite conversation wasn’t it. Someone inside me twists when she doesn’t even bother to make eye contact.

I glance at the boy to my left, who was Erudite and now looks as pale and nervous as I should feel. I spent all my time worrying about which faction I would choose and never considered what would happen if I chose Dauntless. What waits for me at Dauntless headquarters?

The crowd of Dauntless leading us go to the stairs instead of the elevators. I thought only the Abnegation used the stairs.

Then everyone starts running. I hear whoops and shouts and laughter all around me, and dozens of thundering feet moving at different rhythms. It is not a selfless act for the Dauntless to take the stairs; it is a wild act.

“What the hell is going on?” The boy next to me shouts.

I don’t answer him, but follow the others in a breathless sprint towards an unknown. I haven’t run in a long time, since it’s considered to be enjoyment, and I forgot just how much I really did enjoy it. The soft ache of my muscles paired with strained lungs yields a strange pleasure to my mind. 

My job is disrupted by a sudden stop as the loud blare of a train horn is heard.

“Oh no,” mumbles the Erudite boy. “I didn’t think we would have to do this so soon…” 

“Oh no is right, man” I respond with a chuckle as I make brief eye contact with the boy before moving to spread out in a long line with the others.

The train begins passing our cluster as the Dauntless-born effortlessly glide inside the cars. Soon it’s just a few of us faction transfers left chalked full of anxiety.

I begin jogging alongside a group of others and we run with the car for a few beats, then throw ourselves sideways. I’m not as strong as some of them but I what I lack there I make up in height. I feel my body vibrate and my knees buckle as I land on the rough bottom of the car.

I notice a tiny Candor girl clinging to the handle of the doorway, her shoulder slamming into the side of the train. I reach out just as her frail arm begins to shake and pull her in.

Between gasps, the girl looks up at me and mutters thanks.

I hear a shout and glance over my shoulder. A short Erudite boy with red hair pumps his arms as he tries to catch up to the train. An Erudite girl by the door reaches out to grab the boy’s hand, straining, but he is too far behind. He falls to his knees next to the tracks as we sail away, and puts his head in his hands.

I shake out my hands from nervousness at just the thought of what happened to that boy; he just failed initiation. He is completely factionless now, and the same thing could happen to me or any one of us at any moment.

Dauntless is rumored to have a vigorous initiation process and with the image of the ginger boy in my head, I realize it must not be too far from the truth.

“Are you ok?” The small Candor girl who I helped asks me curiously staring up at me. She is probably a whole foot shorter than my 5’10 frame and has ginormous wire classes that are much too big for her face. I nodded curtly in response.

“I’m Pidge,” she says, jutting out her hand.

I haven’t shaken a hand in a long time either. The Abnegation greeted one another by bowing heads, a sign of respect. I take her hand, uncertainty, and shake it twice, hoping I didn’t squeeze too hard or not hard enough. I wish I was more accustomed to things or this nature. I know that as a young child my mom would tell me I was the hugger-type and that it would do me best to grow out it in Abnegation.

“Lawrence,” I say and pause a moment before adding, “do you happen to know where we’re going?” I have to shout over the wind coming from the open car doors. She quirks an eyebrow at me.

“A fast train means wind,” She states. “Wind means falling out. Get down.”

We both slide downwards, inching back to lean against the wall.

“I guess we’re going to Dauntless headquarters then,” I say, “but personally I have no clue where that is.”

“Does anyone?” She shakes her head, grinning. She has cropped hair that falls to about her chin, and it’s an interesting mix of auburn and orange. “It’s like they just popped out of a hole in the ground or something of that nature.”

A sudden gust of strong wind travels through the car and the other faction transfers fall like dominos one after the other on top of each other. Pidge lets out an adorable laugh that fills the entire box and I try to restrain my smile before realizing I don’t have to.

Over my right shoulder, I can faintly see the rows of gray houses that used to be my home. It’s Veronica’s turn to make dinner tonight. I wonder who will take his place—my mother or my father? And when they’re clearing out his room, I wonder what they’ll find? I imagine books jammed between the dresser and the wall, books under her mattress. The Erudite thirst for knowledge filling all the hidden places in her small room. Did she always know that she would choose Erudite? And if she did, how did I not notice?

I’m amazed at how good of an actor she is. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, because even though I left them too, at least I was no good at pretending. At least they all knew that I wasn’t selfless.

I close my eyes and picture my mother and father sitting at the dinner table in silence. Is it a lingering hint of selflessness that makes my throat tighten at the thought of them, or is it selfishness, because I know I will never be their son again?

“They’re jumping off!”

I lift my head. My neck aches. I have been curled up with my back against the wall for at least a half hour, listening to the roaring wind and watching the city smear past us. I sit forward. The train has slowed down in the past few minutes, and I see that the boy who shouted is right: The Dauntless in the cars ahead of us are jumping out as the train passes a rooftop. The tracks are seven stories up.

The idea of leaping out of a moving train onto a rooftop, knowing there is a gap between the edge of the roof and the edge of the track, makes me want to throw up. I push myself up and stumble to the opposite side of the car, where the other faction transfers stand in a line.

“We have to jump off too, then,” a Candor girl says. She has a large nose and crooked teeth.

“Splendid,” a Candor boy replies, “because that makes perfect sense, Zethrid. Leap off a moving train onto a roof.”

“This is kind of what we signed up for, Lotor,” the girl points out.

“Well, I’m not doing it,” says an Amity boy behind me. He has olive skin and wears a brown shirt—he is the only transfer from Amity. His cheeks shine with tears.

“You’ve got to,” Pidge says, “or you fail. Come on, it’ll be all right.”

“No, it won’t! I’d rather be factionless than dead!” The Amity boy shakes his head. He sounds panicky. He keeps shaking his head and staring at the rooftop, which is getting closer by the second.

I don’t agree with him. I would rather be dead than empty, like the factionless.

“You can’t force him,” I say, glancing at Pidge. Her honey eyes are wide, and she presses her lips together so hard they change color. She offers me her hand.

“Here,” she says. I raise an eyebrow at her hand, about to say that I don’t need help, but she adds, “I just…can’t do it unless someone drags me.”

I take her hand and if we weren’t about to jump off a moving train, I’d probably laugh at how mine is near twice the size. As it passes the roof, I count, “One…two…three!”

On three we launch off the train car. A weightless moment, and then my feet slam into solid ground and pain prickles through my shins. The jarring landing sends me sprawling on the rooftop, gravel under my cheek. I release Pidge’s hand. She’s laughing.

“That was fun,” she says.

Pidge will fit in with Dauntless thrill seekers. I brush grains of rock from my cheek. All the initiates except the Amity boy made it onto the roof, with varying levels of success. The Candor girl with crooked teeth, Zethrid, holds her ankle, wincing, and Lotor, the Candor boy with shiny white hair, grins proudly—he must have landed on his feet.

Then I hear a wail. I turn my head, searching for the source of the sound. A Dauntless girl stands at the edge of the roof, staring at the ground below, screaming. Behind her, a Dauntless boy holds her at the waist to keep her from falling off.

“Rita,” he says. “Rita, calm down. Rita—”

I stand and look over the edge. There is a body on the pavement below us; a girl, her arms and legs bent at awkward angles, her hair spread in a fan around her head. My stomach sinks and I stare at the railroad tracks. Not everyone made it. And even the Dauntless aren’t safe.

Rita sinks to her knees, sobbing. I turn away. The longer I watch her, the more likely I am to cry, and I can’t cry in front of these people.

I tell myself, as sternly as possible, that is how things work here. We do dangerous things and people die. People die, and we move on to the next dangerous thing. The sooner that lesson sinks in, the better chance I have at surviving initiation.

I’m no longer sure that I will survive initiation.

I tell myself I will count to three, and when I’m done, I will move on. One. I picture the girl’s body on the pavement, and a shudder goes through me. Two. I hear Rita’s sobs and the murmured reassurance of the boy behind her. Three.

My lips pursed, I walk away from Rita and the roof’s edge.

My elbow stings. I pull my sleeve up to examine it, my hand shaking. Some of the golden skin is peeling off, but it isn’t bleeding.

“Ooh. Scandalous! A Stiff’s flashing some skin!”

I lift my head. “Stiff” is slang for Abnegation, and I’m the only one here. Lotor points at me, smirking. I hear laughter. My cheeks heat up, and I let my sleeve fall.

“Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!” shouts a man at the other end of the roof. He is older than the others, with deep creases in his dark skin and gray hair at his temples, and he stands on the ledge like it’s a sidewalk. Like someone didn’t just fall to her death from it. “Several stories below us is the members’ entrance to our compound. If you can’t muster the will to jump off, you don’t belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first.”

“You want us to jump off a ledge?” asks an Erudite girl. She is about my height, with mousy brown hair and big lips. Her mouth hangs open.

I don’t know why it shocks her.

“Yes,” Max says. He looks amused.

“Is there water at the bottom or something?”

“Who knows?” He raises his eyebrows.

The crowd in front of the initiates splits in half, making a wide path for us. I look around. No one looks eager to leap off the building—their eyes are everywhere but on Max. Some of them nurse minor wounds or brush gravel from their clothes. I glance at Lotor. He is picking at one of his cuticles. Trying to act casual.

I am proud. It will get me into trouble someday, but today it makes me brave. I walk toward the ledge and hear snickers behind me.

Max steps aside, leaving my way clear. I walk up to the edge and look down. The wind whips through my clothes, making the fabric snap. The building I’m on forms one side of a square with three other buildings. In the center of the square is a huge hole in the concrete. I can’t see what’s at the bottom of it.

This is a scare tactic. I will land safely at the bottom. That knowledge is the only thing that helps me step onto the ledge. My teeth chatter. I can’t back down now. Not with all the people betting I’ll fail behind me. My hands fumble along the collar of my shirt and find the button that secures it shut. After a few tries, I undo the hooks from collar to hem and pull it off my shoulders.

Beneath it, I wear a thin gray tank top. It is tighter than any other clothes I own, and no one has ever seen me in it before. I ball up my outer shirt and look over my shoulder, at Lotor. I throw the ball of fabric at him as hard as I can, my jaw clenched. It hits him in the chest. He stares at me. I hear laughs and shouts behind me.

I look at the hole again. Goosebumps rise on my tan arms, and my stomach lurches. If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to do it at all. I swallow hard.

I don’t think. I just bend my knees and jump.

The air howls in my ears as the ground surges toward me, growing and expanding, or I surge toward the ground, my heart pounding so fast it hurts, every muscle in my body tensing as the falling sensation drags at my stomach. The hole surrounds me and I drop into darkness.

I hit something hard. It gives way beneath me and cradles my body. The impact knocks the wind out of me and I wheeze, struggling to breathe again. My arms and legs sting.

A net. There is a net at the bottom of the hole. I look up at the building and laugh giddily, half relieved and half hysterical. My body shakes and I cover my face with my hands. I just jumped off a freaking roof.

I decide I have to stand on solid ground again or I might throw up. I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grab the first one I can reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and I would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me.

“He” is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. His eyes are large and stand out on his pale face due to his eyelashes that touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are a deep blue almost purple, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color. They manage to be both dark and light at the same time.

His hands grip my biceps, but he releases me a moment after I stand upright again.

“Thank you,” I say.

We stand on a platform ten feet above the ground. Around us is an open cavern.

“Can’t believe it,” a voice says from behind him. It belongs to a dark-haired girl with three silver rings through her right eyebrow. She smirks at me. “A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of.”

“There’s a reason why she left them, Lauren,” he says. His voice is monotone and with a rumble, and it’s not as deep as you might imagine. “What’s your name?”

“Um…” I don’t know why I hesitate. But “Lawrence” just doesn’t sound right anymore.

“Think about it,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. For some reason, I feel it is rare to achieve a smile from this guy. “You don’t get to pick again.”

A new place, a new name. I can be remade here.

“Lance,” I say firmly.

“Lance,” Lauren repeats, grinning. “Make the announcement, Four.”

The boy—Four—looks over his shoulder and shouts, “First jumper—Lance!”

A crowd materializes from the darkness as my eyes adjust. They cheer and pump their fists, and then another person drops into the net. Her screams follow her down. Pidge. Everyone laughs, but they follow their laughter with more cheering.

Four sets his hand on my shoulder and says, “Welcome to Dauntless, Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed, next chapter will probably be sometime around tuesday! (-:


End file.
